I remember it very well. Must have been right after I had started in the School band, or Berger og Nesoddtangen Skolemusikkorps as it was called. In the beginning it was extremely exciting to be a part of the band, and my parents and grandparents shared my excitement in joining the band. My Grandfather-Erik Johnsen or Dadda as we called him when we were young was of course as my father a huge Jazz fan. Not sure where the nickname “Dadda” came from, we called my grandma on my father’s side “Bam”, and I believe that came from “Babs” as the adults called her, but “Dadda” must have come from “Dad” or Pappa in American.
Maybe since he had worked on the Norwegian American Line as a waiter, and had been to New York and other exotic places, and he had adopted his American nickname. At any point, he was “Dadda” for us kids. He had brought home a Monkey, stuffed monkey, and a real stuffed Alligator that usually hung on the wall. Believe that he had brought this from the US way back in the 50’s, when he toured the seven seas. Erik, Dadda or FarFar was my hero, my father when my father wasn’t there, and my best buddy. He always treated me as an equal, and he was the most fun guy to be around, always joking, always with some joke and fun story to tell the people around him. His was a huge Jazz fan, and among Sinatra, Benny Goodman was the band leader of choice. Needless to say, I was influenced to pick the Clarinet as my instrument of “choice”, I was prime for indoctrination, from my small in size but to me big hero, and I was to be the owner of a clarinet shortly after “I” had decided on the right instrument. . I remember him taking me down to Helvik, Nesodden to some musician or band leader, and a Clarinet was purchased to the young protegee for a notable sum of money I am sure. There was never anything too good for the young boy as the grandfather always seemed to make him feel special. A new watch when the time was right. Another new watch when the other was lost or left in a locker room, or at a playground somewhere-but never a bad word , just acceptable behavior-at least in the old man’s mind. Then Clarinet was purchased and I started playing. The parents were of course very proud, especially when it seemed that I had an ear for music and took to the beautiful instrument in a very natural way. Playing in the band I got to march in the front, as the clarinets and flutes was in the first two rows, on 17th of May or in a band meet or just for practice at the old school fields. We traveled on band trips to Sweden, Denmark, and performed in the theme parks as appropriate in the 70’s. The uniforms consisted of blue pants with a white stripe going down the outside seams. Red Jacket, -long over the hips, with double breasted gold buttons a white bag to hold the sheet music and a red and blue hat with brim to make it all look very official. Trumpets in the middle, Trombones on the side and Horn, alt horn and percussion in the back. The Trainees, was marching in the back following the band itself, with a couple o0f chaperons, also in uniform marching on the side and in the back, just to keep it all organized. We pride ourselves those days of being the best school band at Nesodden. Yes there was also Nesoddtangen Music Band, they had a lot of members –many drums and flashy girls with high boots but for some reason the kids in our band considered us the best. It was a cool time, at least for us in the band, and I apparently had talent for playing the Clarinet. After a while I didn’t even need the notes, as I had memorized the songs we were playing and in performances I played from memory.
It was too bad that when I turned twelve I stopped practicing altogether. It wasn’t considered cool playing in a band, at least not among my peers, and I started hiding the fact that I actually loved playing. Didn’t want to be seen with the little clarinet carrying case in public, and I sensed that everyone thought this was a pity. The pressure of being cool and trying to be like the others made it harder to be a part of the band, and I decided to stop playing. This was of course a disappointment for the proud parents and the always understanding “Dadda”, that now was “Far Far” too old and too cool to say “Dadda”: any longer. I was for some reason terrified of being seen with a clarinet in public, had it been drums; it would maybe have been a bit cooler, but not the clarinet. The decision to have me play in Oslo Musikk Konservatorium, as a project were the students were to train their teaching skills on young music talents sounded good, but not so much. I had to travel on the bus, on the ferry, walk to the subway and take the subway up to the school, all with the clarinet in hand. A bag didn’t hide it, what if I would meet any of the other guys, travelling with such a silly instrument as a Clarinet? This didn’t last long either and I faded away from playing the instrument I loved so much to play.
The clarinet followed me as I got older and moved away from home and in to Oslo. Many moves and many apartments, but the carrying case with the Clarinet followed. I didn’t play, didn’t practice and didn’t even blow in to it, but it always was there, without a sound from it.
In 1991, I moved to New York, left the Clarinet at home at my mothers, and forgot about it for a while. When I asked my brother in law to box up my stuff one day and send it to New York, the Clarinet-in the old case came in the box. I then moved to North Carolina, it was now over 17 years since I had played this instrument. It was put on the wall in my downstairs bar fell down a couple of times and almost got ruined. When we moved to a new house in 2007, it was boxed up and I forgot all about it. The Box was gone for all I knew, and I didn’t even think of the instrument.
So 5 years later, in 2012 Alek, my youngest son declared that he was to play in the middle school band, and that he had decided to play the Clarinet. He did not know that I had played the clarinet as a child and it warmed me to hear that he had made such a great choice. I smiled and told him that I also had played the clarinet and it was great to hear that this was his instrument of choice. The school has a rent to own program and he got a brand spanking new Clarinet that he started playing with. The Clarinets used in school these days are of a lesser quality and does not sound the way the “real” instruments used by professional; nevertheless, the house was filled with the warm sound of Clarinet. Alek had a natural talent for music and picked it up immediately. The more I started listening to him the more I regretted having quit playing and I tried to play the Clarinet as he was practicing one night. I still knew how to play, even 37 years later, yes it took a while to remember the notes and but the fingers still remembered and it felt great. One night I started looking in the basement, maybe I still had the old Clarinet, and maybe I could play with Alek? After a bit of going through old boxes and looking through all the stuff not yet opened, 5 years after moving the box was there right in front of me. I opened it up, and there it was. A bit battered, missing the pads and needed a cleaning, but it was intact after all these years. I took Alek with me and we took it to a music store to get it checked out.
The eyes of the music clerk lit up, she stated that she played the clarinet, her boyfriend played professionally and she said this Clarinet is something special. They don’t make them like this any longer, This was a “Noblet” from Paris, and made of wood, and apparently the Clarinet of this kind has a very distinctive and special sound. It surely needed some tune up, -the little crack in the flute needed some patching but with some effort it would look and sound like new. It was probably worth between $1500 and $2500, but for me it was the memories and the fact that this was given to me by my grandfather that meant the most. The old man had really not held anything back and the instrument was top notch. Little had I known? Go for it was the message I gave her and I was ecstatic to hear that it was possible to get it back in shape.
As Alek has progressed through the first months the Clarinet is now his. I play every now and then with him and I’m ok with playing the new, not so nice instrument as I know that the old “Noblet” is in better hands with Alek. It’s too bad that among the students in middle school it still isn’t cool to play in the cool band or playing an instrument other than a guitar, drums, or in a rock band. That is the society we live in, but to me, now this many years later it certainly is cool to hear m y son practice the songs. He is even started to teach me more, and I of course let him do this. I know he likes me to play together with him, we actually also sound pretty good, and maybe I me playing with him can make it a little easier to think it actually is ok. He is of course a young insecure little boy, I am sure there will be teasing, but hopefully he will keep playing and progress in to being as good as he can be with the instrument.
Maybe the Clarinet followed me over here to the other side of the world, and that he picking up the instrument not even knowing that I had played it was meant to be? Maybe I never got rid of the old Clarinet because it was always meant to be Alek’s instrument? All I know is that the beautiful French Noblet Clarinet, still in the same old case from back in the late 60’s is in very good hands. I love to hear the music that is now produced yet again from my old Clarinet, as Alek is practicing, sometimes with me with him, but it is Aleks turn now. I’ll take the back seat and let him have his moment. Maybe he can keep going and make it through the silly pressure of coolness of middle school and that he will keep playing it for a long time…..It would be pretty cool-at least to me.
